Happily Ever After
by K3IR
Summary: Natara has a choice to make. Maltara. Rated Between T and M.


**I am quite literally buried in tests and homework, I watched the third episode (or as I like to call it 'the episode that shall not be named') of Glee, no, I don't want to talk about it. And I still refuse to watch an episode of NCIS because Cote de Pablo's gone, but I did read a spoiler that Michael Weatherly's character said, "No one's saying her name, have you noticed? It's like she's dead." Which is true, but for some reason, I have this feeling that they're going to bring her back, because with the ratings they're getting at the moment, the majority of the NCIS fandom refuses to watch the new season as well. **

**And that ladies and gentleman, is why I haven't been able to post a story in 2… months… Oops.**

**I've also decided I won't be updating 'Show No Emotion', I had this whole 2 chapter story thing planned out with a beautiful smutty ending that ends in Blaise and Jeremy back together. But then, as I explained, my social life, or lack thereof, got in the way… so if anyone wants to send me an extra chapter via private message, you're ever so welcomed to do so, doesn't matter if it's smutty or not. **

**This story is signifying me hopping back on the Maltara bandwagon. It's rated between T and M and it contains a total of 1 swear word and 1 almost swear word. I don't usually like to swear in my stories, but this was kind of warranted, this story also contains some sexual content… if you squint.**

**Disclaimer: disclaimed.**

**P.S  
I haven't played the 2 newest episodes yet, so if you could all kindly shut up and not tell me about them, it'd be great!**

* * *

0000

"Mal, we've gotta stop doing this." She pants, running her hand through her hair to get the sweaty tendrils out of her face.

"But I _like _doing this." He replies, nibbling the skin behind her ear a little too roughly.

"I'm a married woman."

"Who's currently having an affair with her partner," he pauses, resting on his elbows, his nose rubbing against hers, "so tell me, Nat, is it a _happy _marriage?"

"Is there ever such thing?" she responds, arching her neck as he places chaste kisses down the column of her throat.

"Not to my knowledge." That's enough talking, they both decide, as she rolls him over, aligning their bodies and-

_*BZZZ*_

"Shit." She hisses, rolling off him and out of bed to find her phone in the mess of clothes that is his bedroom floor.

"Will we ever be allowed to go for round two?" he groans into the pillow.

"We shouldn't even be having a round one, now shut up." She warns him, before controlling her breathing and pressing 'answer'.

"Hello?" she sits on the edge of the bed, pulling her underwear and pants back up her legs, then cradles the phone between her shoulder and ear as she works on clasping her bra back on.

"_Yeah, Nat, look, I know we had plans for dinner tonight, but something came up, the bosses want me to stay behind with them and work with a client for an upcoming case... I'm really sorry." _Oscar apologises into the phone.

She knows that what she's currently doing is worse – way worse – than him skipping out on dinner, _again_, but she can't stop her shoulders from sagging and the long disappointed sigh that leaves her mouth involuntarily,

"It's fine, maybe we can go out for lunch tomorrow, or dinner tomorrow night." She puts on a fake smile, hoping it'll be convincing enough for him to hear over the phone for a wife that's supposed to be in their house, _alone_, getting ready for a nice evening out; instead of _here_, banging her partner.

Speaking of partner, he's still laying down on the bed behind her, listening intently and leaning on his elbow, facing her.

"_I don't think I'd be able to make lunch tomorrow, and it'll be too late to go out to dinner tomorrow night, how 'bout we order in and watch a movie?"_ She knows he's trying, she really does, but she can't help but be pissed at him, even though she kinda has no right.

"Yeah, take-in and a movie sounds great…" she answers, "I'll see you whenever, bye Oscar."

"_I love you."_ She wants to say it back, but she can't, so she hangs up the phone.

Falling backwards on the bed, landing on Mal's stomach, she turns her head to look up at him, his kind, sapphire eyes looking back at her, filled to the brim with sympathy.

"Everything okay?" he asks after a long silence, running his hands through her hair.

"Why couldn't you have been the guy to yell out _'I object!' _eight months ago?" she asks, rolling over so her face was snuggling into the warm skin of his stomach.

"Because I loved you so much to let you go off and be happy with someone else." He answers automatically.

"And now?"

"Well now I'm thinking that I totally should've yelled something out to stop you from tying the knot."

She snorts, "That's a classy way of putting it."

"I'm a classy guy."

"That's debateable."

He smiles down at her before turning serious again, "I'm sorry your 'Happily Ever After' didn't work out the way you planned it Nat."

"It's not your fault. I don't think I'm the sort of person who's cut out for a 'Happily Ever After' anyways." She shrugs as best she can from the position she's in.

"Everyone's cut out of a 'Happily Ever After'"

"Mal, I've been married for a total of eight months, and I've been having sex with you for two months. My 'Happily Ever After' was shot to hell the night I showed up on your doorstep." She replies irritated.

* * *

_*Flashback*_

_Six months he's been moping around for six freaking months, if she hasn't complained or left him yet, then he should probably start to think about moving on with his life. He thinks that all those clichéd chick-flicks that dates and ex-girlfriends dragged him to see weren't so far off the mark. _

_She's the one that got away._

_He now has a new appreciation for that stupid Katy Perry song that was over-played on the radio. _

_God, could he be more pathetic? _

_He's reaching for his third beer of the night when someone starts knocking on his door. He groans, betting himself five bucks that it's the cougar from across the hall. If he ignores it, it'll go away. He's proven wrong when the knocking continues. He looks through the peephole, and then swings the door wide open. _

"_Natara?" she looks horrible, thankfully he has the good graces not to mention that out loud, even with the amount of alcohol he has swimming around him right now._

_She lets out a sob, covering her mouth as a fresh wave of tears hits, her shoulders are shaking violently, and he can tell by the puffiness of her eyes and the dishevelled state of her hair that's framing her face, that she's been crying for a while. His hand cups the back of her neck as he pulls her in for a hug, her arms immediately going around his waist, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in her fists. His right hand remains on the back of her neck, stroking her nape, while the other moves to stroke the small of her back, as she cries audibly into his neck._

"_What happened?" he almost growls, because if her new husband was the reason she's now a wreck standing on his doorstep, he's heading over to their place with a freaking baseball bat. _

"_Nothing." She chokes out, her shoulders shaking each time she tries to catch her breath._

"_Bullshi-"_

"_Nothing happened, Mal. That's the problem," she cuts him off, stepping back to look up at him, "we had about three weeks' worth of a decent marriage, only because we were on our honeymoon, the second we got back, he disappeared for a week, the next time I saw him, he just apologised and said he had work, he just disappears for weeks on end, jumping from client to client, we were supposed to go out for dinner last night, I was so excited, we had this big thing planned, I got all dressed up and drove to the restaurant, I sat at that table for three hours before I gave up, I didn't even get a call to say he had to cancel. The next time I saw him was about two hours ago, we fought, screamed at each other until our throats were sore…"_

_He looks at her, this poor woman who deserved to be treated like a Queen, only to be stood up in a restaurant. He's about to inform her of his plan involving the baseball bat before she speaks again._

"… _He grabbed a few clothes and just left. I didn't even bother trying to call him, I just drove straight here. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," fresh tears start streaming down her cheeks, "I didn't know where else to go."_

_He walks backwards into his apartment, making sure to keep eye contact with her, once inside, he walks her gently back into the door, making sure it's firmly shut behind her. She chokes on another sob as the tears keep rolling down her face. He's never seen her like this; he's trying so hard not to panic at her being so out of character. He takes a step closer to her, his giant, warm hands cupping her face so she'll look up at him, he leans down and kisses her forehead, then kisses away the tear drops clinging to her cheeks, before he's fully aware of what's happening, she's leaning up, kissing his chin, then his jaw, then the corner of his mouth._

"_Nat…" he warns._

"_Please, Mal," she whispers, "I need to feel something else. Please." She nudges her nose with his, "Make me feel something else." She whispers against his lips._

_After that, everything was a furious blur of shedding clothes, groping, limbs, tongues and teeth, he vaguely remembers about ten minutes worth of wall sex before carrying her into the bedroom. _

_The next fully recovered memory after that was the morning after, she was lying on her stomach, the white sheets contrasting with her tanned skin as they pooled around her waist, her hair cascading down her bare back and her arms folded underneath the pillow. She was a picture of perfection, and he couldn't believe why Oscar would rather be on business trips then in bed with her, hell, if he had his way, she'd never leave his bed, ever… again. He rolls over, tangling his feet with hers, tracing lazy patterns on her back until she snuggles deeper into the pillow and moans her appreciation._

_He could definitely get use to this._

_*End of Flashback*_

* * *

"So…" he begins, changing the subject, "if pretty boy isn't gracing you with his presence until tomorrow night, does that mean we can have another sleepover?" he winks at her.

"No."

"Why?" he whines.

"Because we have work tomorrow, and I can't show up in the same clothes I wore to work yesterday." She tells him, getting up and reaching down for her crumpled top.

"You can go back and get clothes?" he suggests.

"I could, but then I'll get into the habit of leaving my clothes here, then when Oscar decides he'd like to return home for an hour, he's going to wonder where all my clothes have gone."

"Would that be so bad?" he asks, sticking out his bottom lip like a child.

"There are other ways I'd like to break a divorce on a man then subtly moving my clothes out of the apartment, yes." She informs him, standing at the end of the bed and running a hand through her hair.

"You're finally leaving him?" he asks, sitting up, scooting down the bed to sit in front of her, the blankets pooling around his waist enough to not expose him completely.

"It's been two months; it's unfair to us… all of us," the last part coming out in barely a whisper.

He leans forward, grabbing the backs of her thighs and pulling her towards him until she comes to stand in between his legs, raising her shirt to expose her midriff; he places a sweet kiss just above the waistline of her pants, nibbling at her soft skin.

"Mal," she moans, hands coming up to run through his hair.

"I love you." He states, "You know that, right?" he looks up at her now, his chin resting on her stomach as he gives her the biggest puppy dog eyes he can muster.

"I know." She smiles softly at him.

"And you love me to, right?" he sounds like an insecure child.

"Mal-"

"Right?" he insists as he cuts her off.

She lets out a sigh before answering, "Yes."

He slowly stands up, letting the sheets drop around his feet, he doesn't know whether he should be feeling under dressed, or she should be feeling over dressed, either way he doesn't care as his hands come up to cup her face and he leans down to give her a long, loving, tender kiss. It's full of past apologies and future promises and she hopes that every kiss with him will always be this toe curling as this one. She pulls away from him, both almost whimpering from loss of contact.

"I really should go," she whispers, her nose nudging his.

"I know."

"I'll call you later?"

"M'kay." He pouts.

She leaves the room, refusing to turn back around and look at him. She knows she would regret it if she did.

0000

"Hey Nat," Oscar beams as he walks into the room, towards his wife.

"Hey Oscar," she replies, shying away from his kiss.

"What's wrong?"

"We need to talk."

0000

* * *

**Okay, so it's one of those happy endings/not so happy endings. I'm happy with it, and I guess that's what matters.**

**Btw, the whole 'Stupid Katy Perry song' I don't find that song stupid, I am quite in love with it actually. But I was writing from Mal's point of view, and could you honestly see Mal enjoying that song? I mean let's be honest here gooiizz.**


End file.
